


Flour Above Finery

by brooksey



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, Eavesdropping, F/M, Original Character(s), Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24991591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooksey/pseuds/brooksey
Summary: Who could have guessed that Cullen, of all people, would be keeping a secret from everyone -- much less that the secret would be his lady love?Written for a Cullen/OC prompt on the DA Kinkmeme.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Original Character(s), Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 33





	Flour Above Finery

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the DA Kinkmeme asking for Cullen in a secret relationship with a normal woman of Skyhold. (https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/93509.html?thread=366310469)
> 
> Original prompt:  
> "I would love to see a one-off with Cullen in a wholesome but well-kept-secret relationship with a non inquisitor lady. She can be a regular mage, a baker, a solider, whatever. I’d love to see a sweet and romantic moment of them sneaking some time together.
> 
> Some ideas:  
> Cullen sneaking away to visit her and steal some kisses  
> Cullen coming “home” at the end of the day to a tiny little room they cozily share  
> Cullen comforting his lady love when she feels self conscious after she overhears some nobles tittering over how attractive he is  
> Her fussing over him when he comes home from a battle"
> 
> AN: this prompt struck my fancy even though it already had a fill. I did _not_ read the existing story (and still haven't) so that I wouldn't be influenced by it. That being the case, apologies to readers and especially the fill author for any similarities that may exist between the two works!

Evelyn sped up her pace in pursuit of Cullen across the courtyard. She’d gone up to his tower, looking to continue their discussion from that morning, only to find he’d just left through the opposite door. By the time she’d reached the other side, he was already at the bottom of the winding staircase that led down from the battlements.

She supposed that she could call out to him or move even faster, but it seemed somehow undignified for the Herald of Andraste to go running through Skyhold shouting at people. When he reached the far wall, he glanced to either side — she waved, but he didn’t look in her direction — then disappeared through a worn and seldom-used oak door.

Evelyn sighed. Where on earth was he going? She couldn’t even think what was on the other side of that door. But no matter — she couldn’t be far behind now; his boots still echoed up the stone staircase when she followed him into the castle. She started down after him, much quieter than he’d been thanks to her soft leather shoes.

By the time she reached the bottom, the mouth-watering smell of baking bread in the air told her she was near the kitchens. There was only one door at the foot of the stairs, so Cullen must have gone through it—

She froze after opening it only a couple of inches. Someone was speaking inside the room, and it wasn’t Cullen — the voice belonged to a woman. 

“What are you doing here?”

Cullen’s voice answered her, low and seductive. “What do you think I’m doing here?” 

Evelyn’s eyebrows shot up. In the time she’d known Cullen, he’d always seemed intensely focused on his work, so it came as a total shock to hear him speaking to a woman so intimately. She knew she shouldn’t spy on the pair, yet her curiosity was piqued, and she couldn’t resist looking through the open door.

A familiar woman that Evelyn couldn’t place stood at the counter of a tiny side kitchen making bread. She had a good-natured, heart-shaped face that was red from the heat of the ovens; a curvy figure; and long brown hair falling in loose curls nearly to her waist. 

Cullen was there too, standing close behind her and removing his gloves. Once his hands were bare, he reached up and swept the mystery woman’s cascading hair back and off to one side. Evelyn’s brows rose practically into her hairline when he leaned down and pressed his lips to her exposed shoulder.

The woman closed her eyes and tilted her head back, enjoying what he was doing — but then something shook her out of the moment, and she was all business. 

“Mrs. Howell will skin me alive if she finds you down here,” the woman told him, thumping the dough in front of her perhaps a little harder than was strictly necessary. At this point Evelyn was beginning to feel guilty for watching so long, but at the same time, the accidental discovery was too intriguing to look away from.

Cullen was unmoved by the warning, and murmured his disagreement instead of stopping. “I’m sure that Mrs. Howell—” a pair of slow, gentle kisses on her shoulder, moving inward— “would make an exception—” another kiss, along the side of her neck this time, and his arms slipped around her waist— “for the commander of the Inquisition.” 

Rather than giving in, she scoffed and pounded the dough even harder. “Yes, of _course_ she would,” she said crossly. “Everyone wants to _please_ the commander of the Inquisition, don’t they.”

Now Cullen’s attention was caught, and he pulled back a bit, nonplussed. His strong hands went to her shoulders and tried to turn her to face him, but she would not budge.

“Amelia.” He kissed the back of her head. “What happened?”

She drew breath to answer, then let it out again as though she couldn't think what to say. Evelyn flinched at the loud thud when the dough was swung in a half-circle and landed heavily on the counter. She made a mental note to forego bread at the evening meal.

Evelyn remembered where she’d seen Amelia now that she’d heard the name — a brief but pleasant meeting last time Josephine had insisted on a survey of the kitchen stores. Evelyn recalled being impressed with Amelia, who had struck her as very sharp, well-spoken and self-assured.

“Tell me,” Cullen insisted gently.

Amelia kept her eyes on her kneading while she spoke. “Well, the Orlesian nobles are altogether bewitched by you, aren’t they? How handsome you are, how honorable. Their maids _love_ to repeat the gossip when they’re down here. The things those women say they’d like to do with you make even the porters blush.”

Cullen combed his fingers through her shining hair. “Surely the prattling of a few empty-headed noblewomen carries no weight with you.” 

“All right, maybe it shouldn’t.” Amelia finally turned to face him. “But I’ve seen for myself how beautiful they are, Cullen, in their silks and their jewels. I’ve seen how other men look at them. Like they’re angels, or works of art.” 

His look of concern deepened. “You can’t think that I’d want—”

“No, of course not.” She cut him off with a sigh and gestured to herself. “But look at me. I’m only a breadmaker, covered in flour instead of finery. Just imagine what they’d say if they saw you, the gallant commander, with me.” Evelyn’s heart went out to the woman — she, too, knew a little something about feeling intimidated by the expectations of others.

“Ah, dearest.” Cullen looked pained; he took her in his arms and pulled her close. “I could not possibly care less what they would say, and nor should you. Not one of them, no noble or anyone else, could hold a candle to you.”

At last Amelia smiled, and even though the smile was timid, she was glowing. Evelyn could see why Cullen was so enchanted. “Sweet talker.”

“Maybe so,” he chuckled, “but I mean it. Nothing anyone might think or say could ever change how much I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and they embraced. 

Cullen kissed her deeply then, and Evelyn backed away from the door, grinning. It was well past time she gave the couple some privacy. She never would have guessed she’d find Cullen, of all people, in a situation like this, but it was plain he was head over heels in love. She had no intention of interfering with that by interrupting or letting on that she knew his secret. She would just have to settle for finding him again later.

She tiptoed carefully back up the staircase, hoping that the mostly-closed kitchen door would block what little noise she made. Halfway up, she crossed paths with a plump woman who had flyaway grey hair and a disagreeable expression, and thought fast.

“Mrs. Howell,” Evelyn said, trying to sound gracious while speaking quietly. “I’ve just come to find you. Josephine needs to speak with you about… oven repairs.” She grabbed Mrs. Howell by the elbow and steered her back up the stairs. “Come, let’s go see her. Now.”


End file.
